


A Non-Descript Winter Holiday Carol

by GentlemanG



Category: RWBY
Genre: Christmas, Comedy, Drama, Gets a bit dark in chapter 2, Inspired by A Christmas Carol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlemanG/pseuds/GentlemanG
Summary: A story to tide over the V8 mid season break. One lonely, Winter Holiday's night, an overworked and despondent Ironwood is visited by three ghosts. Will James Ironwood learn the error of his ways?
Comments: 19
Kudos: 17





	1. Ozpin's Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a spur of a moment bit of writing that just came to me. I do not own RWBY, Non-Descript Winter Holiday, or A Christmas Carol. If I did, I'd definitely be mad with power. Happy Holidays to you all.

General James Ironwood was a busy man. That much is true. Busy as a bee. Although, the author must stress that, while he is aware that bees are the most busiest of animals on The Brothers’ green earth, they do not compare to the general’s busyness in the slightest. His semblance, Mettle, allowed him to focus on tasks harder than even the most studious of scholars. He simply would not stop until the job was done to a standard he deemed appropriate. He was the very model of a modern major general, if Gilbert and Sullivan had existed in this world.

In any case, the general was incredibly hard at work. The Grimm and Salem had been attacking Mantle, but strangely leaving Atlas untouched. Ironwood had been fussing over this for the longest time, until one day, he had been awake so long pondering this predicament that he blacked out in the middle of a meeting with the council (well, minus one Councilman Slate). When he came to, and after a few days in the infirmary, he came to with a possible hypothesis: Salem was letting them stew. Letting the kingdom’s problems pile up, so as to make the eventual Grimm skirmish a complete wash of the Atlas military.

The general decided he needed to improve morale. And so it was, on the Nondescript Winter Holiday season of 2020 ATK (After The Kingdoms’ founding), that with a false smile on his face, he pressed the button on the PA system:

_ “Could somebody please escort Specialist Schnee to my office, please? That’s Specialist Schnee, to my office. Thank you.” _

Admittedly, the general showed a facsimile of a warm smile when Harriet Bree of the Ace Ops helped Winter Schnee through the doors. She’d recovered remarkably well, especially after the punishment she took in that incident with the Winter Maiden, and Pietro’s robot. However, the fact that the Atlas Specialist now bore two crutches under her arms, and a slight limp in her left leg showed that true recovery was not going to be here for sometime. Harriet looked at the general for a second, and then left. Ironwood met Winter half way across the room, partly because he couldn’t stand to see her limp any more.

And partly because he wanted to rip off the band-aid and be done with it. Winter would not take this well.   
“Winter, I trust that the infirmary staff have been kind to you?” Ironwood began, trying to think how best to word this. Winter looked sternly at the general. “The infirmary says that I should be better in a few months. But, if I may be candid, General…(at this, she paused. Ironwood pensively nodded his affirmative, and she continued)...I feel so helpless. The Grimm are at our door, Weiss is in peril and...I worry about you, General. After that incident in the meeting, I’ve been thinking that you’re going hurt yourself even worse. Atlas needs a General, and they can’t get that if he’s killing himself via exhaustion. I apologise for my impertinence, but that’s how I feel!”

James looked at Winter and returned to the false smile. “Winter,” he said gently, “you’re right. The people are panicking about my wellbeing. They deserve to let go of that concern for once. And that is why I’ve just sent the memo out. Everyone in the Atlas military is recieving 4 weeks paid leave, with the stipulation that they spend Non-Descript Winter Holiday with their families. I’ll keep watch of everything in that time, and I will see you in the new year.” Winter looked bewildered, so the General continued. “This includes the Ace Ops, and all Specialists, including you.”

With a flash of realisation, Winter started, “But General-!”

“ _ Winter,” _ the General briefly raised his voice. “Go home. Your family is concerned, and with your sister gone, they’ll need some solace in knowing you are alright. I know some of the people say that Atlas would fall apart without you, but that is wrong. I am more than capable of running the Military by myself for a few weeks.”

Seeing that there was no use convincing him, Winter muttered a quick “Understood, sir.”, and turned to leave. Ironwood sensed the tone of defeat in her voice and spoke up. “I know that you and the council are concerned about my wellbeing. But I would much rather take care of myself  _ after _ the safety and security of Atlas is secured. The greater good of Atlas is far above myself.” He gave a thin smile. “Have a Happy Non-Descript Winter Holiday, Winter. That will be all.” And with those words, Winter left morosely.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Most of the men were happy to return to their families, although some did question the general’s motives. That evening, the general took his dinner in his office, before retiring to his quarters for the night. He wasn’t going to rest long. He had a lot of work come the morning. He sighed warily as he leaned back in his chair, facing the fireplace. He hadn’t even taken off his uniform. Why bother? He was going to settle back into work in an hour or two.

His eyelids were getting heavy when all of a sudden, he heard a clock chime. 

Only, that couldn’t be possible. 

All the clocks in Atlas were digital, and none of them  _ chimed _ . No, this was the monotonous knell of a grandfather clock. The general covered his ears, only to find that the sound was not muffled or shrouded in anyway. His eyes darted around the room, only for his attention to be drawn to the fireplace. The very flames seemed to rise and dissipate in slow motion, defying the very rules of nature. The monotonous chime still rang, echoing in the very recesses of his mind.

This could have lasted about half a minute or maybe more, but either way, the devilish din ended almost as soon as it began. After taking a minute to settle himself, the general grumbled. “Maybe I could use a nap…”

But as he got up to leave, he could hear the doors to his quarters being flung open. Out of instinct he grabbed his handgun Due Process and pointed it at the intruder. But what he saw made him choke on any words he might have said.

For it was Ozpin, looking just like the last time he saw him. Only now, his black jacket was flecked grey with neglect, one of the lenses of his emerald-green glasses was cracked in the centre, and he was lacking his cane.  _ “But that doesn’t make sense,” _ James thought.  _ “Oscar fell out of Atlas. If HE’S the current incarnation of Ozpin, then what is this?! Some kind of trick by Salem? No, no. She wouldn’t do this. It wouldn’t make sense.” _

As ‘Ozpin’ approached, James noticed his usual enigmatic smile was replaced with a look of disdain and regret. As his eyes travelled down, he noticed four large, green chains trailing off his body. Starting from two fetters on his legs and from either side of a metal-looking collar around his neck, the chains coiled and trailed almost to the door of his quarters. Every few links or so, James noticed a seemingly innocuous object was wrapped up tightly. Occasionally, it was a lockbox, other times, a child’s toy, other times, a farmer’s shovel. Whatever the significance of these objects, they were bound in these chains now, and could not be budged an inch. ‘Ozpin’ continued across the room, only coming to a stop by the fireplace, opposite from the General’s chair. After an uncomfortable silence, Ironwood spoke. “Ozpin? Is...is that you?”

‘Ozpin’ turned to Ironwood with a smile.  _ “Well, glad to see you still recognise me, General.” _

Yep. That was Oz’s voice. The General stared at him. “What are you here for? You shouldn’t be here.”

_ “And yet, here I am. We have much to discuss, James.” _

Ironwood cursed under his breath. Cocky bastard. This was definitely the Ozpin he knew. “Well, take a seat. If you can, that is.”

_ “Why, thank you. At least there’s  _ **_some_ ** _ courtesy left in you.” _ At this, Ozpin raised a hand, drawing a chair from the General’s card table. It flung itself towards Ozpin, who caught it effortlessly. He then sat down, taking great care to make sure he didn’t sit on his chains before he did. He stared at the General, before furrowing his brow.

_ “You don’t believe this, do you?” _

James smirked. “Quite right. I don’t believe any of this is happening.” At this, Ozpin let out a grim chuckle.

_ “Oh? And what do you suppose is happening?” _

Ironwood snarled at the joviality of this...thing. “Because, if you must know, the council have told me that I have been working myself particularly hard lately. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t blacked out in front of them. That’s what’s probably happening right now, isn’t it? I’ve blacked out in my room and I’m having a dream. It makes sense really. You’re dead, Oscar had your soul, and you shouldn’t even exist!”

No sooner had he finished the sentence did he quickly come to regret it. Ozpin’s face turned into a glower of rage. James felt the temperature in the room drop. Then, as quickly as it began, Ozpin composed himself. The temperature returned to normal. Then Ozpin sighed deeply.

_ “While I am...shocked and dismayed by the actions you committed against Oscar and my students, that is only part of the reason why I’m here. Since the beginning, I’ve worked hard. Just like you, for the greater good. And now look.”  _ He gestured to his chains and shackles.  _ “Every link in this chain is a regret, or lingering sadness that I now bear. The results of finally knowing what I should have done and not being able to make amends. I’m here because...because it’s your last chance too.” _

The General refused to budge. “Or what? I’ll get chains like those?”   
Ozpin shook his head gently.  _ “No, no. I’ve seen your chains being forged, and let me tell you: They are ten times the size of mine.”  _ Ozpin turned to see the General with his head in his hands, shaking his head. “Qrow had the right idea. I should probably stop drinking.”

The glower returned to Ozpin’s face. He swung his fist onto the arm of the General’s chair. At the bang of an ethereal fist on leather, General Ironwood was shocked into silence.  _ “JAMES! LISTEN TO ME! Tonight, you will be visited by three ghosts. Expect the first at one o’clock, the second at two o’clock and the third soon after. Listen well, and you will be saved. Ignore them and, well...you’ll see the consequences.” _ Suddenly, the grandfather chime returned again, although softer and dimmer. Ozpin smiled and walked over to the window.  _ “I believe that’s my cue to leave. But before I go, look here!” _

The General absent-mindedly gazed out the window and was rendered speechless by what he saw. Mouth agape, he saw a cavalcade of spirits floating around the buildings of Atlas, and in the distance, even around the buildings of Mantle below. He felt like he recognised some of the spirits, but his mind was too abuzz with thoughts to remember. Without even opening the window, Ozpin leapt out of the window and was immediately sent floating, as if floating on an invisible breeze.  _ “Remember what has passed between us!”  _ he called as he glided away on the midnight breeze.

Even after the spirits faded away, Ironwood remained at the window, staring at the sky. He didn’t remember leaving the room, or entering his bedroom, but the next thing he knew he was lying in bed, out like a light.

He hadn’t even taken off his uniform.


	2. Chapter 2: Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ironwood meets a rather informal scythe-wielding spirit. Out of all the spirits he could get, why does he get shackled with the drunk one?!

Ironwood awoke with a start in his bedroom. He was still in his room, so he knew he hadn’t been drugged and kidnapped. So what had happened last night? Perhaps Winter had been right? A rest would do him the world of good, right.

  
No. No. He can’t. The Relic needed to remain out of Salem’s hands. The people are relying on him, and he was the only one he could trust. He’d sleep for now, and then wake up at-

Wait, what time is it?

He glanced at the clock. 1:00 AM. He’d been asleep for much longer than he intended.

As he got up to examine the rest of his quarters after Ozpin’s arrival, he found no trace of the last night’s events. Except, when he returned to his bedroom, Ironwood looked at the clock again. 1:00 AM.

That couldn’t be right. He made sure every sweep of his quarters lasted at least 10 minutes. Could he have  _ rushed _ it for once?

Then he saw it.

The clock ticked up to 1:01 AM…

...and then immediately went  _ back _ to 1:00 AM.

Ironwood cursed. Electronic clock glitches. The one most annoying household issue in Atlas, happened to  _ him _ , on  _ tonight of ALL nights! _ Then a memory came to him. The ghostly Ozpin. The message he gave him…

_ Tonight, you will be visited by three ghosts.  _

_ Expect the first at one o’clock. _

_ One o’clock. _

**_One o’clock._ **

“...crap.” The words came out less like a obscenity, more like a annoyed admission. Best find the ghost and get it done wi-

_ “Glug...glug...glug...glug…” _ At the sound, the General’s eyes darted to see a glowing figure, with it’s head in his ensuite liquor cabinet. He recognised the coattails of this figure, but he had to make sure. “...Qrow Branwen?!”

At the mention of the name the spirit quickly stood up straight. Ironwood had knew for a fact that Qrow Branwen was currently languishing in the prison cells several feet beneath him, and if he  _ had _ managed to escape, James betted that he’d be shrewd enough to choose to seek out his daughters rather than taunt him in any way. This couldn’t be Qrow Branwen.

And yet, the spirit was the spitting image of him.

The spirit looked blearily at the General.  _ “Qrow Branwen? So that’s who this form belongs to? Knew it was some guy you once knew, but-” _ _   
_ General Ironwood, who was struggling to wrap his head around this, interrupted the spirit’s ‘internal’ monologue.. “Three. Questions. One, who are you, and what are you doing here? Two, why do you look like Qrow? And three,  **WHY AND HOW ARE YOU STEALING MY LIQUOR CABINET?!** ”

The Ghost seemed unfazed, before seemingly kicking his feet up on an invisible chair.  _ “I can answer all those right off the bat. One, I’m the Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Past. Shocker, I know. Two, we ghosts can take the forms of anyone. I just so happened to get stuck with his form. And three,”  _ he said as he leaned into the General’s face,  _ “if we’re going to be trawling through your past, I’m going to need a frigging drink.” _

Surprised by the brusque response, James cottoned on to one phrase. “Trawling through my past? Wait, why are we looking through my past?”

_ “For your welfare. Or so they said.” _ the spirit chuckled.  _ “I wasn’t really paying attention.” _

“Clearly.” Ironwood sighed. “I don’t think ‘my welfare’ would appreciate getting scared by ghosts.”

_ “Fine. Let’s say it’s for your redemption. Enough talking. Let’s get going!” _ Upon saying this, ‘Qrow’ heads towards the bedroom window. Ironwood sighed. “The window again? You do realise that, if I jump out that window, I’ll be dead, right?”

The spirit growled.  _ “Fine. Just grab onto my cape. Keep ahold, and nothing will happen...nothing  _ **_bad_ ** _ at least.” _

The moment Ironwood reluctantly grabbed the ghosts cape, they were immediately launched out the window. They began travelling through the sky faster and faster. The scenery began to blur around them. Ironwood just managed to crane his neck up and nearly let go in shock. He was being held aloft by a giant black bird. Bigger than even an Alpha Nevermore. But no sooner had he clasped eyes on the creature that it vanished. They had come to a stop.

The shock of the journey and the speed at which he had travelled had obviously made the General very nauseous. He felt like he was about to vomit, but when he saw where he was, he instinctively swallowed.

_ “This place seem familiar to you?” _ The spirit asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“Know it? How could I ever forget it?”

For the place they arrived was none-other than snow-covered Beacon Academy. Not only was it all in one piece and not overrun by Grimm, but the paint, banners, and architecture all looked fresher and more new. Ironwood was stunned. “We’re...we’re in the past? But how?”

The spirit chuckled.  _ “Ghost trade secret. Anyway, look! Guess who?” _

The spirit gestured to a young boy sitting in the school library, writing vigorously in a notebook. People of all ages bustled outside, engaging in snowball fights or chatting amiably amidst the snow fall. All the while the boy sat there, grimacing, as he kept to writing his notes.

  
_ “All your teammates were outside. Why didn’t you join them?”  _ The spirit asked.

Teammates. The word stirred memories long since buried in his subconscious. Ironwood turned to look at three particular people playing in the snow. “I was the leader of my first team...Team IYCE. Myself, Mara Yuki, Sylvain Carmine and Ebon Blaiddyd. Mara always liked the snow. Being an arctic fox Faunus, that came without saying. She used to always say winter was her favourite season. Sylvain was a dependable guy, if a bit of a skirt chaser. Ebon...he never spoke much, but he was a remarkable fellow. I’d have him for the Ace Ops, if I could find him…”   
  
The general was broken out of his reverie by a errant snowball thrown by a student in his general direction. Rather than explode and make his suit wet, it just went through him, through Qrow and hit the window. Ironwood’s eyes shot back to see a splatted snowball, and an annoyed young Ironwood storm off to another part of the library. Qrow sighed.

  
_ “This is just an image of the past. They don’t know we’re here. Good thing too. Don’t think Glynda would have liked that even then. Heh heh.” _ Qrow took Ironwood’s hand as they stepped through the window and followed the young Ironwood.  _ “Enough talk. This is the part we came to see.” _

\---

James Ironwood was in a foul mood. It was bad enough that everybody was snowball fighting outside, slacking on their studies, but Non-Descript Winter Holiday was around the corner! Oh, the thought of it wore him out! What was so fun about a holiday that turned normal people into carol singing lunatics for one month of the year?! And the streets of Vale, routinely becoming chock a block with food vendors, and people soliciting charity and many more besides! If it weren’t for his semblance, he’d struggle to get anywhere!

No, the best thing to do is to work hard and use your skills to become the best Huntsman you can be. That’s why he was here, studying so that his team wouldn’t be slacking come the spring.

Or rather, he could, if someone hadn’t misplaced this  _ one damn book. _ ‘Greatest Huntresses in History, Volume 15.’ It had a particular tract James had dealt most important, yet some moron had removed it from the ‘History’ section. He had just finished scouring the ‘Techniques’ for the umpteenth time, when he happened across the telltale cover of the book, currently being read by some greasy haired lanky boy, scanning the pictures with a lecherous grin on his face. They locked eyes, and before James could voice his distaste, the boy spoke up in a oily tone. “Hey, do you think this lady is hot?” James’ face turned many shades before settling on a slight blush. He proceded his answer slowly and methodically.“The Red Huntress of 87 BTK (Before The Kingdoms) had a fire dust powered weapon, so yes, I suppose she could be hot in that sense. If you mean in an aromantic sense, then I’m afraid you and I are at odds.”

The young man stared at James before laughing out loud. Not in a mocking tone, rather a genial one. “You got brains to match the brawn! Name’s Qrow. Qrow Branwen. You’re the leader of Team IYCE, right? Short Stack keeps going on about your skills. She likes weapons.”

James was astounded. This was Qrow Branwen of Team STRQ? Best to size him up.“My Semblance allows me to maintain focus on a task no matter what. It helps me avoid diversionary tactics. What’s yours?” The young Branwen smirked. “Misfortune. I cause bad luck to anyone around me. Remember that weapons malfunction at my last sparring match? That’s what I tend to do.”

Immediately, James’ brain began to turn. A fighter who could alter fate with a passive semblance alone? The applications of that are endless! He was beginning to muse tactical applications for that when Qrow leaned in really close. The scent of cheap cologne tickled his nostrils. “But enough talking. How’s about a toast between friends!” With these words, he quickly ducked into his school bag and pulled out a bottle of ‘Mistrali Grove ‘84’ and a couple of chipped glasses. Before James could ask about the liquor or where he got it from, Qrow added, “By the way, if Professor Scotspine asks about someone breaking into his liquor cabinet, you won’t tell, right?”

Although he was a stickler to the rules, James was inclined to answer in the affirmative. He was talking to a man who could inflict bad luck with just his presence alone. It would do well not to offend him. Soon Qrow poured out two glasses and took a sip from his own, While James just watched. Qrow was concerned. “You gonna drink? ‘Cause, no offence, but you’re kinda making this awkward.” James shook his head. “I would rather keep my brains intact, thank you. And besides, aren’t we both underage?”

  
Qrow let out a chuckle. “We’re in a huntsman academy, kid. You gotta learn to be flexible. Plus, take it from me, kid. This makes studying go  _ wayyy _ better.” James thought hard. Suppose he just try one drink. It was a toast between friends after all. It would be rude to refuse.

  
He smiled and reached for his glass.

\---

  
“I got absolutely wasted with Qrow that day,” the Adult Ironwood recounted, “and woke up with a screaming headache the next morning. But he was right. For the first time in that month I actually felt happy.” He noticed a tear was beginning to flood down his cheek.

‘Qrow’ smiled. “It’s starting to work, tin man. But don’t get to caught up. We’ve got another memory to visit.

James caught sight of his younger self watching the teenage Qrow fill up a second glass for the two of them, before the familiar cape was forced into his hand, and the giant black bird dragged him into the sky once more.

The bird dragged him across the sky at break-neck speed. That much was clear. The snow in the sky blurred and rushed around them, creating a quite literal polar vortex around them. Finally, Qrow came to a sudden stop. While this one didn’t nausuate him like the last one did, he was knocked off balance, but he quickly regained his composure. James glanced at Qrow, who remained behind him. “That landing wasn’t as soft, Spirit. Something hit you?” 

Qrow glanced around.  _ “Very funny. We’re getting close to a big memory, so it’s only natural that things might get a bit bumpy. Now, where in blazes are we?” _

  
The duo had materialised in a corridor, behind a large set of double doors. Ironwood glanced at the banner as he reminisced. “The Beacon Dance, must have been 20 years ago.”   
As Qrow joined them, they both read the banner together: BEACON WINTER DANCE OF 1997 ATK. The spirit nodded.  _ “23 years ago to be precise. And sounds like it’s in full swing. Wait, who’s that over there?”  _ Ironwood glanced over at where the spirit was pointing, only to just see two young men. One of them was clearly him (his hair was always slicked straight, even as as a young man of 18), and the other one was…

\---

  
“Sylvain, I still don’t understand why you dragged me out here!” James Ironwood decried indignantly. He had been settled in for a long evening of weapon maintenance (Brothers know, Due Process could jam in a tight spot), when Sylvain had burst into their dorm, and threw a white suit at him and told him to get ready. Before he could even ask why, he had already put the suit on and was in the middle of being frog-marched down the hall!

The fact that Sylvain had a suggestion based semblance probably had something to do with it. He’d implant a suggestion in your head and you’d be immediately thinking about doing it! And **James** was supposed to be team-leader! His red-haired companion chuckled. “James, buddy, consider this an intervention. You’re winding yourself up more than Ebon on his bad days. So I’m taking you to meet girls. You’ll thank me when your emotions come back from getting cigarettes.” Sylvain flashed a saucy grin at his newest partner in crime.

James started his complaints. “The rest of the team of the team will surely-!”

But Sylvain only put his finger up. “Don’t worry. The rest of the gang are here. Mara’s here with  _ her _ date, so you won’t be alone. Ebon will probably be sitting on the balcony, and I’ll be trying to find whatever one of the three girls I asked hasn’t caught onto me.”

The young Ironwood reluctantly sighed. “When will you finally learn that your semblance isn’t a way to get women?”

Sylvain Carmine gave a small, honest smile. “When I finally find a special someone.”

Satisfied with that answer, the two boys stepped into the ballroom.

\---

_ “Huh. This Sylvain guy sounds pretty neat. Whatever happened to that guy?” _

“Shortly after graduation, he got a job in Haven. Even after the attack on Haven, I’ve heard nothing since.”

At this point, an awkward silence passed between spirit and human. Eventually, ‘Qrow’ pointed inside the room again. “ _ Uh, hey! What’s going on now?” _

Secretly appreciating a break from the silence, Ironwood craned his neck in once more.

\---

In the party, James was silently hating every minute of this experience. His semblance fuelled mind was focusing on too many things at once. And the few times Sylvain tried to introduce him to a girl, he barely held her attention too long.

This was too much. He should just find Mara. He’ll tell her to tell Sylvain he was seeing himself out, and he’d be home free.

All desire for freedom, however, flew away the moment he eventually found her.

The normally bubbly and excitable Mara was now sitting on a white barstool by the open bar (being manned by the Branwen boy, appropriately), looking like Non-Descript Winter Holiday had been cancelled. She looked so glum, even the Branwen sister (who he would later learn was called Raven) seemed ecstatic by comparison. Slowly, he hopped up to the stool next to his teammate and cleared his throat. She turned her head towards him. “...Hey, James.” Her white Faunus ears drooped morosely. James, trying to remember Sylvain’s advice on talking to people, started off gently. “Hello, Miss Yuki. I was...just wondering where your date was.”

The faunus sighed. “Stood me up. I can’t _believe_ **I** was the one used to make his actual date jealous!”

James looked with disdain. Not off to a great start. “Was it Sylvain? Because I could always get Ebon to-”

“It wasn’t Sylvain. Even HE knows that I’m immune to his semblance.” She glanced up. “Get me another drink, Qrow. Keep pouring until I stop feeling sorry for myself.”

The young Qrow looked confused at Ironwood. “I swear, she’s only been drinking blueberry milksha-”

“NOW.” At this, Qrow shrugged and topped off a fairly large glass of sky blue milkshake. James sighed. She’d go into a sugar crash in a minute. “If your date is gone, and you wish to have a partner, I’d be happy to step in. I mean,” he quickly started, “only if you want to. I recognise this is a bad time, and you are in a bad mood and-”

“James.” The faunus’ ears began to prick up. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”   
James was unsure, but he spoke up. “Mara...I’ve never been in love before, but I’d be happy to start with you.”   
To the outsider, this could easily be a pretty cheesy pick-up line. However, for Mara, on that night, at that time…

...it was perfect. She embraced James tight in her arms and into a massive hug. Sylvain saw them and could be heard yelling “YES! EBON OWES ME 30 LIEN!” for the next 15 minutes. At long last, the tin man had bore his heart. And when the music started up for the next dance. It was James Ironwood who escorted the white fox faunus to the floor, hand in hand.

\---

As the older James and ‘Qrow’ watched the scene, James noticed more tears in his eyes. Mara was a beautiful girl. Skilled on the battleground, and a adhesive member of any team. She would have made a great Atlas Specialist one day, if not for…

For…

_ “Hey. Did you  _ **_keep_ ** _ the girl, General Leadbelly? Because to be frank, I’m kinda getting excited here.” _

James could hear a faint tremor in his voice. “Y-yes. It became apparent that we both liked eachother. We still remained a couple until we graduated. We didn’t meet again until-”

_ “Uh-uh! Hold that thought. We’re heading to the big one now. Last stop too. End of my shift.” _

Sensing what could be coming, James immediately tried to voice his objections, but he had barely gotten the first syllable out before getting yanked off into the sky.

The journey to the last location was even more turbulent than the last. Wind whipped at the two as they flew at unimaginable speed. Crashes of thunder and flashes of light occasionally provided a tense backdrop to an already tense moment. Inside, the General was beginning to feel cold...and slowly getting warmer?

Yes, as they slowly approached the final destination, the first thing the general noticed was the heat. Very hot, searing heat that would have burned the skin off them if the wind wasn’t counteracting it. Then he noticed a smell. A curious, acrid, familiar scent.

Burning dust.

And that was the last thing he thought before everything stopped, and he landed flat on the ground.

\---

Captain James Ironwood was eager to see this job done. It would have been a small miracle for someone as young as James to be even considered for Atlas Security. And it would be an even bigger miracle for that same someone to achieve the rank of Captain in just a few years. But thanks to his semblance and his own dogged desire to succeed, he had proved them all wrong. Now, he was on his way to his biggest assignment yet.

  
As far as he knew, a White Fang cohort had attacked a Schnee worker colony. James had a healthy respect for Faunus and their rights (which was saying a lot, especially in Atlas Security), but he knew they were going about it the wrong way. Make peace, not war, that’s what they say.

Of course, if they did, he wouldn’t have much of a job left. 

No more chatter now, he thought, as he began to focus his mind on his objective. To take down the White Fang aggressors, it was best to go for the leader first. The others would be thrown into disarray, allowing the other troops to safely neutralise them. Intelligence suggested most of the workers had gotten out, retrieved by another cohort, but the White Fang who started the attack were staying behind to lay waste to the facility. Most likely to make a statement.

James readied his helmet, watching from his peripheral vision as his crew did the same. He smiled. “Okay, gentlemen. The slumber party stops now. It’s ‘make your families proud’ time!” And with that, the boarding ramp of the Bullhead dropped, and him and his men charged into the fray…

\---   
  


Ironwood awoke to the feeling of heat all around him. The scent of burning dust now stung his nostrils. He staggered to his feet, and looked around for his spirit guide. It was clearly the ruins of an old Schnee worker Colony. Judging by the scent, it was only recently attacked. But of course, he already knew  _ where _ and  _ when _ he was...he just didn’t know why they would dredge  _ this _ memory.

He found ‘Qrow’ looking around the destroyed buildings.  _ “Fire dust explosives. Pretty crude, but easy to assemble. But of course, you already know this, right, Ironwood?”  _ The grin he flashed then had more of a grim air to it. Ironwood was confused and scared. “Why? Why here?”

‘Qrow’ smiled.  _ “What’s wrong, Jimmy? Not the reunion you wanted?” _

\---

James’ strategy was going well. The rest of the White Fang grunts were being diverted by his own team. All that he would have to deal with himself would be the leader and their associates. Not that he didn’t want to take lives in pursuit of justice. He just wanted to surgically and precisely get the job done. A scan from his helmet showed the leader cooped up near the main Dust deposit. James smirked.

Trying to blow the whole place up. Biggest statement you could make in a quick amount of time. Clever tactics. More than the guerilla maneuvers he had experienced from them so far. But admiration would have to wait until later. If that dust vein went up, everyone will die. And pointless loss of life, benign or not, was something he hated.

  
He located the shaft entrance, switched on his helmet’s night vision and headed in. He could hear voices as he approached:

“Is the device ready?”

“Almost. Those Atlas radios are messing up the transceivers. The detonator may take a bit more time to calibrate.”

“Did we really have to leave a message!?! Oh, I do NOT want to be caught!”

“It’s okay. The fire should be a good distraction, and the others are definitely holding their own. Right?”

“Definitely. You planned this out well, Lieutenant Yuki. Schnee won’t recover from this scare any time soon.”

James froze when he heard the name. Yuki? No, that couldn’t be right. It was probably a sister or something. Mara always said she was the youngest of 8 sisters. It gave her the youthful spirit she was known for. Yeah, that was probably it.

This trifle was quickly pushed onto the back-burner by his semblance. He finally decided to continue moving forwards. He called in on his communicator. “I’ve found the leader. All available units, zero in on the mineshaft. Keep quiet, though.”

  
He finally walked in, rifle raised. As expected, 5 guns turned on him. With a voice that had repeated the refrain several times, he read them the riot act: “Hold fire. By the order of the Atlas Defence Union, I place you under arrest, under charges of domestic terrorism. On my honour, I promise that you will stand a fair trial and be punished accordingly. Do you understand?”

What James  _ had _ expected from White Fang is the usual cries of rage, the retort that ‘Atlas don’t do fair trials for Faunus’, threats of death or mutilation, or even ‘I understand. Please take me away.” (Not very likely, but not entirely implausible.)

What he  _ hadn’t _ expected was the leader to go quiet, lower their weapon and say…”James?”

James died inside. It couldn’t be. It mustn’t. He slowly trudged forward, in spite of the other four guns pointed at him. “Mara...Take off the mask. Take it off now.”

Seemingly noting the desperation in his voice, the leader’s voice tuned more gentle. “What do you expect to see?”

“The face of the girl I love.”

Seconds passed, but they alone felt like times in which a universe could be born, live and die. Finally, with a sigh, the leader raised their hadn and removed their Nevermore-design mask. James instinctively removed his helmet in kind. 

She looked a bit older, but those white vulpine ears were recognisable. One thing Ironwood noticed was that, even though she was in trouble, her ears were still in a state of neutrality. She clearly had no qualms with her actions. Finally, when they were face to face, James only had one question.

  
“...Why? How?”

Mara sighed. “The SDC are hurting people, and they’re doing all they can to cover it up. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if…” She trailed off.

“If?”

Mara looked among her White Fang compatriots, who nodded in solidarity. She took a deep breath, tearing up. “My eldest sister was employed here. She never returned. I did some research and I found out the truth. It’s basically slavery! They’re basically working until they drop! And then they’re dumping the corpses in the sea! They made drones and robotics, so why does it have to be Faunus labourers?!” It was clear remembering this was making her quite emotional.

James grabbed his old partner. “Breathe, Mara. So, you say that the SDC has committed many crimes? Do you have any proof?”

The white fox took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Yeah. I have a few files from some trusted sources. I joined the Fang originally to get more information, but when the chance came to put an end to this particular facility, I took it.”

James nodded. Mara continued. “Isn’t this the part where you arrest me?”

James rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. But I don’t want to arrest someone who might be able to put a guilty person behind bars. Mara, I’m a Captain in Atlas. You don’t need the Fang. Come with me. We could work together to put him behind bars.”

Mara seemed to visibly light up. “Oh, James! Can I really come with-

**BANG**

With one noise, Mara fell backwards to the ground. James’ reverie was shattered. He looked around. He saw the other White Fang members. He saw his own men just working their way down. Neither side dared fire a shot. Instead, they all seemed to be looking at James.

“...who fired that…?” The question came out quiet, but there was enough venom in those three words to kill a King Taiju. Nobody answered. He asked again.

**“WHO FIRED THAT?!”** This time, he all but roared the question. Blood was pumping in his ears. His eyes darted around the place, searching for a modicum of guilt or fear on their face. Finally, a young soldier stepped forward and solemnly gestured downwards. “Sir...your hand.”

James glanced at his hand. What he saw almost made him come apart with grief.

  
He saw Due Process, his weapon, his symbol of justice and loyality, smoking from a recent shot. As his gaze travelled, he felt hot tears come down his cheeks as he glanced at Mara’s face. Her death mask, a face of shock and sadness. James pieced it together, but the picture it gave made him sink to his knees.

_ “To take down the White Fang aggressors, it was best to go for the leader first.” _

His semblance would never let a task go unfinished. Subconsciously, with a single shot, it finished the job for him.

He could almost read Mara’s last thoughts:   
  


“My boyfriend just shot me.”

**“My boyfriend just shot me.”**

\---

Having watched this scene from the shaft’s entrance, James felt the same sadness as his younger counterpart. ‘Qrow’ put a hand on his shoulder.  _ “You had to let your men arrest the others, didn’t you? Cause you couldn’t do it yourself.” _ James reluctantly nodded at the spirit. “I shouldn’t have got my hopes up. Just because I was a big shot, I thought I’d be able to bend the rules for her. But after I buried her, I decided I wouldn’t try to bend the rules for anyone. Not for friends, not for love, not for anyone.”

_ “No, you didn’t.”  _ The frank, uncaring tone of ‘Qrow’ almost scared him. He looked at the spirit with a hurt gaze.  _ “You didn’t learn jack from that night, Jimmy. Sure, you stuck to it for a few years, but now you don’t even follow a rule you set out for yourself.” _

“What?! How did I-?!”

_ “Three words, James: Arthur.  _ **_Frigging._ ** _ Watts. That guy singlehandedly betrayed his homeland to the Grimm Queen, and you’ve been letting him help you get the Winter Maiden, without even considering if he’s planning to stab you in the back.” _ The spirit kept a hard stare, but otherwise spoke in Qrow’s trademark laidback manner, which was beginning to annoy the general. Before he could continue, ‘Qrow’ looked away and continued.  _ “Although, now that I’m thinking about it, he might not. I mean, you’ve surrounded yourself with an army willing to carry out your vision. You’re basically becoming another Salem.” _

General Ironwood saw red. “Shut UP!”

‘Qrow’ bent over and looked at the general with a mixture of pity and sarcasm.  _ “Yeah, I might be wrong! Your army aren’t Grimm, aren’t they? They’re mostly living, feeling humans with homes, families,  _ **_children_ ** _ to go home to and support. Grimm ain’t got that. You’re not another Salem. You’re  _ **_worse._ ** _ ” _

James roared as he drew Due Process. “Shut up! SHUT UP! You don’t get to tell me what’s right or wrong! I, and only I know what is best! ”

_ “Welp. Can’t say I didn’t try.” _ James blinked, as he saw ‘Qrow’ straighten up and wander off.  _ “But I gotta warn you: There’s two spirits after me. And it ain’t getting prettier from there.” _ And with that, ‘Qrow’ walked off into the snowy tundra, vanishing with a snow-filled gale.

James looked at his younger self, weeping over Mara’s body as the White Fang members were wordlessly getting arrested by the equally shocked Atlas troops. Then, with another whip of wind and a vortex of white…he felt his body rising up...and up...and up...

Ironwood awoke with a start in his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this is getting dark. Maybe I should add the Drama tag just to be safe.


	3. Chapter 3: The Ghosts of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Present.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his experiences with 'Qrow', General Ironwood awaits his next spirit. But why is the light on in his bathroom? And why does it now smell like pancakes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, this isn't a shipping fic, but if there is any shipping, it's largely unintentional and part of my subconscious desire to ship things.
> 
> Also, still don't own RWBY, Christmas Carol or Non-Descript Winter Holiday.

It took several minutes before James could regain his thoughts. Everything the first spirit had showed him...it was so surreal, but it couldn’t have been faked. Some part of him knew that what he had saw was visceral, real. Something that was genuine and true.

And, as Ironwood glanced at the clock, something that only lasted an hour. 2AM.

Second spirit due right...now.

Ironwood looked around. No spirit in sight. He got up and surveyed his bedroom. Nothing. He even checked the liquor cabinet again, half-expecting to see ‘Qrow’ robbing more of his booze. But nothing. How bizarre.

He was about to go back to bed when he noticed a light coming from under the door…

...of his en-suite bathroom.

Inwardly wincing, Ironwood could only imagine the kind of ghosts that come from a bathroom. None of them sounded good. But he felt inclined to go in there, and he knew for a fact that time wouldn’t move unless he met the next ghost. Also, the feeling of dried tears clung to his skin, and he needed to get it off.

He sighed, took the handle, stepped into his bathroom….

...only it wasn’t his bathroom. 

Somehow, the room had become many times bigger. The toilet, sink, shower and medicine cabinet were nowhere to be seen. Even the tile floors were gone. Why, it was if the entire room had been replaced! The voluminous room was decorated from ceiling to floor in Non-Descript Winter Holiday Decorations. A decorated tree, shining with decorations all the colours of the rainbow...a seven headed candle holder, filled with flickering light...a wooden kinara holding 7 unlit multicoloured candles...an aluminum pole sitting somewhat lamely opposite the tree. 

And where the sink would be, an massive assortment of food, from a variety of cultures. Roasted birds, stuffing, suckling pig, baked cheese, grilled vegetables, saute’d stir-fry, rich curries, delicious looking sandwiches, Yorkshire puddings, three different kinds of gravy and a plethora of sauces, all surrounding a suspiciously large empty platter in the centre.

  
“Who...made all this?” The General mused out loud. It had been a while since he had made a roast himself, but he knew for a fact it took more than hour to cook  _ one  _ bird, let alone…

... _ this! _

As if to answer his question, out of a door he had never noticed until now, a young man rushed out with a high stack of delicious pancakes. Skirting almost effortlessly around the festive decorum, he placed the pancakes on the platter with the skill of a cat burglar, before taking a minute to lean on the aluminum pole for a second. 

Ironwood took a long look at the man. Wearing a green and black qipao (which now sported golden nutcracker-esque epaulettes), and sporting a pink fringe in his otherwise uniform black hair (which was only just visible under what looked like a toy solider’s helmet), Ironwood was surprised at who he recognised.

“Lie Ren?  _ You’re  _ the Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Present?!”

‘Ren’ just held up one hand.  _ “Give her a second. She’s been prepping up in the bathroom.” _

“Give who a second? And,  _ wait, there’s still a bathroom here?” _

  
Ren quietly covered his ears just as a pink explosion demolished the door that Ren had just departed from. With the glamour of a heavy metal musician, a ginger haired young lady slid out of the room, riding the shockwave of the blast. Ironwood noticed she folded something into her back before arriving in front Ironwood. Looking closer, she wore tinsel wrapped around her body and waist, and a paper party crown askew on her head. She flashed a wink before striking a pose.

_“_ ** _Present_** _and accounted for!”_

Ren applauded kindly, while the General still looked on in shock. “Nora Valkyrie, I presume. Wait, when Ozpin talked about the second Ghost, I...was only assuming one.”

_ “Well, yeah!”, _ ‘Nora’ started,  _ “But me and Ren here come as a set!” _

Hundreds of questions buzzed around the general’s head. He’d be needing some Xrayandvavin for this headache before the night was up. But he started with the first question he had before ‘Ren’ first spoke: “How did you make all this food in an hour?!”

‘Ren’ gazed with the General at the lovely spread.  _ “I didn’t. This is the food of human kindness and generosity, which you have long denied your fellow man.” _

_ “Except for the pancakes,” _ ‘Nora’ digressed,  _ “THEY’RE for my tummy!” _ On that note, she grabbed the entire stack of pancakes with both hands. Then, like something out of a cartoon, her mouth opened up incredibly wide and swallowed the entire stack whole. With a sigh, she eased back, big smile glowing on her face, with no sign of remorse...or indigestion.

  
James wisely chose to ignore this for the sake of his own dwindling sanity.

“Wait, what? But I’ve always celebrated Non-Descript Winter Holiday with good cheer. Even when I joined the military! And I’ve shown kindness I’ve sent all my staff home for the holidays!”

_ “Around the Non-Descript Winter Holiday time, true.”  _ ‘Ren’ looked equally nonplussed.  _ “But for the rest of the year? Here, let’s show you. Nora?” _

_ “I’m on it, Ren!” _ ‘Nora’ gave a mock salute. Then (Ironwood rubbed his eyes to ensure this was genuine) ‘Nora’ seemed to touch the side of the wall, and flick it aside as if it were nothing but an image on a Scroll. Hundreds of different scenes flashed by, like a slideshow at top speed. Finally, ‘Ren’ stopped it on one location.

\---

In the Schnee Manor, Ruby, Weiss and the others were waiting on baited breath. Nora was recovering after the ill-fated incident with the electric barrier, but it was still a potentially dangerous injury. Pushing a resistance semblance far past it’s intended threshold was a known Huntsman killer, but Ruby was trying to think of happy thoughts.

Penny had yet to come back, though, so she was rapidly losing her train of thought.

\---

_ “Yeesh. What a sad scene!” _ ‘Nora’ shook the General’s thoughts who was processing the scene.  _ “Ren, pass me the bag of spice rounds!” _

‘Ren’ nodded and smiled as he passed ‘Nora’ a bag. She pulled one round object out and flicked it in the air. Then, in one swift movement, she unfolded a _grenade launcher_ from behind her back and unhooked the chamber. The round slotted in neatly, and she quickly fired a single blast at the forlorn huntresses. It erupted between them in a red, glittery cloud that smelled like gingerbread.

\---

Suddenly Weiss spoke up. “Ruby...remember the bunk beds? And how I always kinda wanted them?”

Ruby turned to Weiss with a renewed twinkle in her eye. “Heh...yeah. And remember my planner for our second year of Beacon?”

“Yeah. Wait, wasn’t that my binder?” Weiss grinned.

“Still not a crook!”

The two partners laughed and began to share stories of their halcyon days at Beacon, which would last long into the night. Blake would eventually join them with cups of cocoa, and added memories of her childhood in Menagerie to the blend of kind words.

\---

The General was surprised. “What was in that explosive round? You called it a ‘spice round’? What spice was in it?”

_ “Simple! ME-Spice!” _ ‘Nora’ quipped.  _ “It makes anything nice and festive. But it works especially on the people who need festive cheer most of all!” _

Ren nodded and turned to the general.  _ “Like what you see?” _

The General smiled admittedly. “Yes. We may have our differences, but I’m happy to see a bit of cheer in them. No-one deserves-(here, he choked a little)... **no-one deserves** to be arrested- **afraid** on Non-Descript Winter Holiday.”

The ghosts noticed his freudian slips, even if the General himself didn’t. ‘Ren’s vision turned sour.  _ “No thanks to you. This is Weiss’ first Non-Descript Winter Holiday where she actually feels happy. And this is Ruby’s first Non-Descript Winter Holiday she’s celebrated in a long while, come to think of it. What might have happened if they didn’t have to keep running? If you didn’t give in to your petty paranoia? If you had just given them time to voice their thoughts, and worked with them? What kindness did you give them, other than to add fuel to your fear of a problem that has yet to happen?” _

_ “Yeah.” _ ‘Nora’ said, sounding oddly more serious.  _ “Maybe the greatest foe you have to face is yourself!” _

Ironwood’s face turned sour. “I had to escalate our plans when Salem began inseminating her subjects into our cities! It was for the Greater Good! None of them seem to realise! What kindness have  **they** given **me?!** I’m only human! I’ve made mistakes, just like they did, and am fighting tooth and nail to resolve my problems! Yet, they (he pointed at Ruby, Blake and Weiss) give me no sympathy!”

‘Ren’ didn’t respond, continuing to watch the huntresses’ conversation. ‘Nora’ spoke sternly to the General.  _ “That’s because you never gave them a reason to! Luckily, there’s still a few people who hope that you’ll see sense.” _

Nora flicked the air, and the scene shuffled again, this time, to a woman with three children.

_ “This family lost their father during the Grimm attacks on Mantle.” _

Flick. Another family.

_ “They lost two of their youngest children to a Grimm attack. Their eldest became a Huntsman, who died at the attack on Haven. _

Flick. Another family. Another family.

_ “They did not lose anyone, but their mother was permanently injured by a Death Stalker She is home for the holidays, but she’s in a hospice for the remainder of the year. _

_ “This family’s brother was recently outed as a supporter of the White Fang. The children are afraid to go to school, for fear of suffering discrimination for their uncles’ actions.” _

_ “As of late, you looked to your past and cursed yourself for your inaction. But now, what you have done is simply compound problem after problem on an already suffering people. People do grow stronger because of tragedy, but they’re not invincible. Look!” _ _   
  
_

Nora began flicking at great speed. The resulting collage showed Ironwood a  _ less declined  _ world. The people were not happy by any means, but they had grown stronger in the face of tragedy, so as to not let their loved ones be hurt again. James sighed.

“What would you have me do? I’m not like you. I can’t go back in time, I can’t undo what I’ve done. Beacon has fallen. And now...I’m in too deep.”

_ “Perhaps. But you can apologise and make reparations for them. I won’t deny, you’re middle aged now, but that’s no excuse. You said it yourself. “We all have to make sacrifices for the greater good.” The point is: You don’t have to plan for the ‘greater good’. Do the best you can in the time you have. Because one day, poof! You’re dead. That’s it. Kaput.” _

James suddenly noticed. As they were flicking through images, Nora was looking rather...ill. Wrinkles had emerged around her eyes, her limbs weak and emaciated, her bright orange hair now a wispy gray. “Uh...Ms Valkryie? Are you okay?”

  
At this, Nora looked at her hands and almost shrieked with panic.  _ “Oh, my gods! REN! IT’S STARTING!” _ She sounded heartbroken.

Ren turned to comfort her. His looks held up better, but his hair had turned snow white and there was a certain wizened look about him.  _ “There, there Nora. It had to happen eventually.” _

“W-what’s happening?!” Ironwood gasped.

_ “What do you think?” ‘ _ Nora’ spat bitterly.  _ “Kaput. For me and Ren.” _

James realised. “You’re both Non-Descript Winter Holiday Present. So your lifespan is only...the present moment.”

‘Ren’ coughed as he spoke. _“Actually, sir, that’s wrong. We don’t live for_ ** _one_** _day. We live the whole 364 days of the year. Non-Descript Winter Holiday spirit, and the kindness and warmth that come with it, don’t last one day. They live in the hearts of men women and children year-long! You_ ** _were_** _right, you have shown kindness on the holidays with much cheer...but that means nothing if you act with paranoia and and your decisions border on cruel for the rest of the year.”_

‘Nora’ was now embracing ‘Ren’, and crying as if her heart was about to break in two.  _ “Your little world may seem in a fragile state of equilibrium now, but that’s just a facade. You’ve killed the symptoms, not the cause…” _ With that, the tinsel dropped, drawing his attention to two small waif-like creatures, a boy and a girl. It was hard to see if they were human through the scars and dirt, but James could see one was a maniacal looking boy with a chitin laced tail slinking between ‘Nora’s legs. The other was a green hair girl with a surreptious glint in her eye, but a guilty look about her face.

‘Nora’ sobbed feebly and continued.  _ “These are the children of both Man and Faunus. The girl is Ignorance, and the boy is Want. Beware them both, especially the boy, for it is Want’s power that brings down nations and dooms their peoples to early graves. It was Ignorance that destroyed Beacon, but it was Want that nearly destroyed Atlas...and he seeks to try again.” _

The children vanished. ‘Ren’ and ‘Nora’ turned to eachother. James was expecting to hear a closing remark, but…

_ “I’m scared, Ren.”  _ whimpered ‘Nora’.

_ “When the New Year comes, I’ll fall in love with you all over again.” _ ‘Ren’ smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

  
For a moment, Nora’s sobs turned to weak laughter, before the two collapsed into black piles of dust and ash.

It took several minutes for James to regain his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4: The Ghosts of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Yet To Come.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last ghost draws ever closer. Would the General's plans truly work out? Do the ends justify the means?

Black.

That was the place he found himself in now. Any remnants of the room were now gone. He didn’t even know which way was up anymore.

The only trace in this void were the two piles of ash left behind by the previous ghosts. Suddenly, both piles, like iron filings under a magnet, rose and _moved_. They travelled and moved in circles, in patterns around the general.

Any time a pile moved close, James felt a prickle of fear down his spine. He only knew this kind of fear once before.

  
He took a sharp breath.

The ash piles finally reconstituted into two hooded figures. One was shorter than the other. The shorter one carried some kind of pad that they handed to the General with both hands.. The other drew their hood even closer...and seemed to be hiding their right arm.

Ironwood set aside his rising concerns and spoke, shortly yet stoutly.

  
“I take it you two are the Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Yet To Come?”

No answer.

“You’re here to show me the future?”

No answer.

“...are you just going to stand there?”

  
No answer, but this time the shorter ghost gestured to the pad they had given the general. He looked down...but there were words on it now!

_“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH. TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS, IRONWOOD, YES, YES AND NO! :-p”_

No sooner had he read the words that they vanished. A cheeky ghost. Something told him he’d be better off with Qrow again. The spirits then quickly hooked him by the elbows. The taller spirit bent to whisper something in their compatriot’s ear, and soon after, more words appeared on the pad.

_“MY PARTNER HERE SAYS WE’RE BURNING MOONLIGHT HERE, SO WE SHOULD GET GOING.”_

In spite of himself, James gave a nod. “Yeah, I need to see this. If this future is bright, then I’ll know for sure if what I’m doing is right. What I’ve heard from your predecessors made me doubt myself, but I have to truly know if my plans for Atlas will save everyone.”

The shorter ghost held its hand over their mouth...a giggle? But before James could ask, the three vanished into the shadows.

\---

The trio appeared outside a coffee shop. James looked around, surveying the scene. The place looked like Mantle, but a lot more built up. And a great deal brighter.

The fact there was no Atlas shadowing the city might have had something to do with it.

The taller spirit pointed at a person who had just arrived into the shop. They quickly sat down among a small group. James could hear their conversation.

“Hey, guys! Have you heard the latest transmission from Atlas?” He sounded shocked.

Snorts of derision from the crowd. Another person, probably his friend leaned over. “What does he want now, Gavin?”

“Burnie, it was an emergency broadcast. Apparently he’s dead!”

At this line, silence filled the room. Another man at the table broke the silence.

“Finally.”

“Now, Geoff, he did so much...in spite of recent events.”

Geoff snorted. “Maybe he’ll stop demanding we be thankful then.”

A few more seconds of nothing. Finally, Gavin spoke. “You know...I’ve heard a rumour.”

Another friend spoke frankly. “Now, you know what we’ve said about rumours…”

“I know, Barb, but I think this one might be true. Apparently there are some who believe...there was a coup in Atlas. That’s how he died. Apparently.”

Barb let out a light chuckle. “I can believe that.”

\---

James watched the scene with trepidation. This had to be a trick...but if his plan for Atlas had gone ahead as planned (since that was plain to see), then that could only be one person they were talking about.

_“HOLD THAT THOUGHT. :-J”_

He noticed the words appearing on the pad in his peripheral vision, just as they vanished again.

\---

James recognised the next location instantly. He’d only been there a few times, but he knew it enough.

Pietro’s old workshop. He always wanted to be closer to the people. Maybe he was why Mantle was more built up.

Just then, a flash of red went through them. James almost had enough time to dodge, before he remembered that this vision couldn’t hurt him. Combat reflexes got him again. The flash sped around, leaving a trail of _rose petals_ in it’s wake. It was around the time the General noticed these that the flash came to a stop outside the lab.

It was Ruby Rose. Although she was older, and her hair was a bit longer, she still wore that telltale cape. She knocked on the wooden door, with a degree of urgency. James could hear her mutter “c’mon, c’mon, open up!”

  
At last, the door opened. However, it was not Pietro who answered, but Penny. Ruby was escorted in. With a gesture, the taller spectre lead their partner and Ironwood into the workshop.

Inside, the whole workshop seemed clean and new, in spite of the building it resided in. It was here that Ironwood got a proper look at Penny. Her body had not changed, shape wise, since their last meeting, but there were signs of wear. Places where she tried to patch herself up. Her emerald eyes now held guilt and regret. 

Ironwood knew those eyes. He saw them every time he looked in the mirror.

A couple of battered chairs sat in the lobby. Ruby sat in one while Penny poured her a cup of coffee. As she worked, Ruby spoke. “I take it, you’ve heard the news?”

The robot nodded. “I did.”

“I...was just coming by to see how you felt.” Ruby spoke slowly, caringly to her boon companion.

“I...I want to mourn him.” Penny began slowly. “But I just can’t! I cannot!”

“It’s okay. At the very least, you’ve done a good job around here. Even after what happened, you’re still ‘the protector of the city’!” Ruby did a little whimsical gesture to lighten the mood.

Penny gave a fleeting smile. “That may be. But I was built as a...protector. I wish I could have helped him! I work hard to rebuild Mantle, but I think I’m not even scratching the surface of what he’s done! I...I just wish I could do more.”

Ruby hugged her friend tightly. “But you have, Penny! You’ve lived through so much and survived! Funds have been raised for the people of Mantle. Even the new Schnee Dust Company has donated to it on various occasions. Salem was pushed back by losing the relic, but she still sends Grimm in droves to attack us. Complacency and apathy is our greatest killer now. You’ve done your part, now let others do theirs. If you take all the work out of their hands, you’re only going to give them more apathy.”

Penny nodded and sat down, holding her coffee, not looking any less sad. Ruby (and James) could both see that it would be a while before she took her words to heart. Penny was raised around people willing to go above and beyond for the safety of Remnant, and to be fair, a lot was pushed on her without her consent. Another reason for her to let people rebuild in their own time.

“If Weiss was here, she’d say something like…” Ruby stuck her pinky out and put on a ‘sophisicated’ tone. “...’Take care that you don’t start believing Mantle is your responsibility alone. Otherwise, you’ll end up like _him_.’ 

Penny smiled for the first time in this reunion. “You always know how what to say, Ruby.” The two friends shared a hug.

\---

A cautionary tale.

  
This man’s legacy, reduced to a cautionary tale in the annums of history. James was visibly shocked now. Penny was a beacon of hope, of joy, to Atlas Military. To see her, broken like he had been...it was something truly scary. He looked to the spirits, expecting some commentary about what could come, but he got nothing.

  
The fact that he didn’t know what could happen to Penny after _this_ was what scared him most.

The taller spirit whispered to the shorter spirit. Another note appeared on the pad.

_“ONE MORE STOP! ;)”_

Before he could voice his complaints, the General was whisked away to another scene.

\---

The snow-covered forests of Patch were not the kind of place someone could get lost. But it was a place to go when you didn’t want to be found. So, when a dark red portal opened, and two people stepped out, the only people to be scared were a couple of birds.

Ironically, the two people could be considered birds themselves.

Raven Branwen lead the way, with a taciturn expression. Qrow Branwen, older, and with a weak smile, followed close behind. James could see something else in Qrow’s eyes.

Sorrow.

The siblings trudged through the snow in silence. Finally, Raven spoke. “I want to remember, that I wouldn’t be coming here, if it weren’t for you.” It sounded like something said with bitterness, but there was none in her voice.

Qrow’s grin turned wry. “Why? You scared?”

Raven sighed. “Maybe I’m overstepping. He’s not going to be expecting me at all.”

Qrow looked at her, truly earnestly. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you back at Atlas.”

“He was going to execute you. And you were going to _let_ him! Don’t deny it, I saw that look of surprise when my Kindred Link turned up in your cell.”

Qrow scratched the back of his head. “I’m surprised it had that much range.”

“It _didn’t_. Ever since the incident with Cinder Fall, I’ve been following from a distance. I’ve been keeping up with events well enough to know when the chips were down.”

“I guess you _were_ always watching. But why are we heading to Tai’s?”

Raven sighed. “I saw how you reacted to that broadcast. The moment you pulled out that bottle of Mistrali Grove ‘84, I had to draw the line.”

Qrow furrowed his brow. “What makes you think that had anything to do with him?”

“Mistrali Grove is a very delicate drink. You don’t _do_ drink delicate liquor. That and those two old shot glasses were a dead ringer.”

(At this, Ironwood visibly teared up.)

Qrow sighed and waved her off “I’ve kept them since Beacon. I’ve toasted with many friends. That doesn’t mean anything-”

“LISTEN!” Raven’s voice came threw strong, but with notes of...worry? “You. Don’t. Need. To. Mourn. Him. Who helped you when you were on the edge? I did. Who helped you mentally recover from losing another friend? I did. Who helped you and Ozpin’s pawns when Atlas wouldn’t? I did. Not Atlas, not him. He was more than happy to shoot you in the face for his greater good. But I’m...I’ll be there for my family. Even if they don’t want me.” 

Raven sighed. “I just remembered what happened when you lost Summer. I do not want history to repeat. So we’re going to Taiyang’s. Because I don’t want to leave you alone on Non-Descript Winter Holiday.”

Qrow nodded, giving a caring smile. “Thanks, sis. But why are you coming, if it’s just for me?”

“Somebody has to support you through this.”

And with it, the Branwen siblings walked through the woods together.

\---

Ironwood was abuzz with thought. Qrow was his oldest friend. The first person he considered a friend. The fact that Qrow nearly went on a mental spiral after losing their camaraderie was a punch to the gut. The Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Present’s words returned to his thoughts:

  
  


_Luckily, there’s still a few people who hope that you’ll see sense._

Did Qrow really still hope for James’ redemption? Another memory, this time from his time with the Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Past:

  
_“Why are we looking through my past?”_

_“For your welfare. Or so they said. Heh heh. I wasn’t really paying attention.”_

_“Clearly. I don’t think ‘my welfare’ would appreciate getting scared by ghosts.”_

_“Fine. Let’s say it’s for your redemption.”_

James Ironwood swallowed and looked at the Spirits. “That man...he is me, isn’t he? If I don’t change my ways…”

Another note filled the pad. This time much more longer:

_“DING DING DING! THE GENERAL GUESSES RIGHT! BUT NOW WE COME TO MY PARTNER’S FAVOURITE PART:_ **_YOUR FINAL RESTING PLACE!”_ **

Upon closer inspection, the ink on the last line seemed...to bleed. Suddenly, he felt inhuman talons grip the back of his head, and he was whisked further and further though the underbrush of the forest. The bushes seemed to cloud his vision.

There he lay, literally getting dragged through a hedge backwards, for what seemed like hours. Then he awoke...lying on the edge of a icy cliff.

With a yelp, James staggered to his feet. He glanced around, getting his bearings. It was a precipice looking over the ocean. If James remembered his navigation, and judging by the familiar landmasses...this cliff overlooked the ocean between Atlas and the island of Vytal.

Why was **this** his final resting place?

Apparently, the shorter spirit anticipated this.

  
_“IF ATLAS IS IN SPACE, WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF SOMEONE FELL FROM THERE? =3”_

He realised the answer. If anything fell from up there, it would burn up on re-entry to the atmosphere. Barely anything would be left.

“So you’re telling me that my grave is-”

The Smaller spectre reached into their cloak and pulled out _what was left_ of a robotic arm. His. Large gashes had been slashed out of it, which had only worsened on re-entry. The steel and blue had been tarnished and burnt, with black carbon flaking off the sides. The ghost threw the arm so that it landed perfectly on the cliff’s edge.

James glanced at this...his last mortal remains, with utter horror and fright. Suddenly, he felt the inhuman, no, _Grimm-like_ claws again, but this time against his throat. He could follow them now, and he could see that they were coming from _the taller spirit’s right arm._ They pulled him close, so General Ironwood could stare this phantom in the eye.

Yes, eye. The creature only had one eye, but blazed with an amber light of inhuman power. In the pupil, he could see hatred, disgust, anger, loathing, all the negative emotions of man and faunus incarnate. The spirit spoke with an inhuman rasping voice, that seemed to echo in both ears and his brain at the same time:

**_“̶̙̍̈́͝ͅY̴̧͚͔͒͊Ǫ̸̛̮̾̃͐U̴͖͛̈̓R̸̛͈͠ ̴̣͍͎͆̓̈R̶̲͑̑̐E̴̠̫͚̠̎M̸̰͙̉͊Ã̷̧͚̖̇̈̍Ĭ̴͖͕͎̖̽̑̊N̷̙̊͊S̵̭͚͘͝ ̸͉̭̃͐Ļ̸̞͕̠͛̾͝I̵̧͙͚͊̀E̸͔͈̭͍̔̌.̴̢̠̍͑̉́.̶͖̬͒͠͝.̵̧̖̬̠͋̚F̷̩̮͚̣͑͌̚̕Ơ̷̻̣͍̔̌̋R̸͍̀T̵̨̯̺̫̒͘͠Y̷̼̹̫̥͗̊̀͝ ̵͈̍̆̆F̴͍̕Ą̷͈͒ͅṬ̴͐̐̚͝H̴̛͉͕̮̰͗̈͠Ó̷̪̈́̽̑M̷͐͜S̷̛̮̊͌̐ ̶̥͚̺̳̇B̶̞̙̾E̴̫̳͓L̷̲͎͎̈̌Ò̵̼̞̝͇W̵̞̲̝̓̔̚.̵̻̃̈́͝”̷̙͙̞͌͗_ **

And with a vicious, sadistic laugh, the creature turfed James off the side of the cliff like a piece of litter. James tried to move, to grab anything, but some kind of ungodly force was keeping him from moving even as he fell into the blue ocean.

  
Normally, he’d be able to tread water, but something just kept pulling him down. As approached the bottom of the ocean, he managed to catch a glimpse of the ragged remains of a familiar Atlas Uniform…

And then?

Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh. By the way, I am just starting on AO3, and I'm still getting used to this site. So bear with if there are any problems.  
> Also, criticism and advice is always accepted. I'm thinking of doing a more light hearted work after this one. But it won't be Christmas themed. Maybe next year.


	5. Chapter 5: The End of It All.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ironwood awakens in his bed. But what has he learned from his time with the spirits.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, James Ironwood felt a state of clarity.

With a start, he awoke in his room. However, with the night  _ he _ had, this was a major surprise.

He leapt up, and began surveying the room. Memories flooded back:

The bathroom where the Ghosts of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Present appeared.

The sitting room where the General first met Ozpin’s spirit.

The liquor cabinet where the Ghost of Non-Descript Winter Holiday Past first materialised…

...minus one bottle.

James was facing a conundrum. His first instinct was to consider everything as nothing but a dream. But he relented. After all, what he had saw had firmly adhered in his memories, which all his other dreams had never done. And there was the use of his memories. They were too accurate to be false in any way. The future he had seen was accurate.

He knew now what he must do. But to be sure, he had to make it an order.

He walked into the bathroom, and stared at himself in the mirror. Clearing his throat, he firmly talked to himself.

  
“I will remember this night. I will take stock of what the spirits have taught me. And I will use them to forge a better world for us all. Past, present...and the moments yet to come. That is an order.”

And then, in a surprising act of mirth, he smiled and saluted to himself in the mirror as he walked off.

\---

As he was about to enter his office for the first time today, Winter met him at the doorway. He gave a smile. “Winter. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Winter looked grave. “I never left, sir. My concern was too great. And, if I may be candid, sir-”

Ironwood looked at her. “It’s okay, Winter. I had the most unusual night. But needless to say, It changed me. Come in. I’ll tell you all about it.”

  
Initially, Winter looked at the General the same way one would look at something unusual or bizarre, but as James recounted his tale, Winter’s furrowed look began to vanish, and a comforted smile took its place.

James took notice, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t seem fazed by this. Why is that?”

  
Winter closed her eyes. “An old ancestor of the Schnee family reported to have been visited by spirits just like those. It seems they come as and when they are needed, pushing people on to the right path. A path like the one I assume you are on now?”

  
The General nodded.

“Winter, I...I am a man who conditioned himself to finish the job, no matter what. I cannot promise a sudden overnight transformation. But I _ have _ learned from the spirits. And I’m going to need you and the Ace Ops to tell me if they feel like I’m going wrong again. Alright?” The General extended his hand. Not his metal one, his remaining flesh and blood arm.

  
Winter shook his hand, and the General smiled. Not like his usual ‘I’m giving you a scrap of affection so you’ll keep in line’ smile. A true, genial smile. It was infectious too, if the similar grin rounding her face was any indiciation.

“So what was your reason for coming here, General?” Winter mused.

“I’m going to set the systems to work automatically. And then,” he turned to Winter, “I was going to decorate Atlas. Would you like to join me?”

Winter saluted, with a smile and vigor behind every word. “Of course, General!”

General James Ironwood was as good as his word. He did all that and infinitely more. While the people of Atlas and Mantle were initially suspicious of his reparations, in time, he became well known as being an admirable General, a stalwart hero, a wonderful friend and by all accounts a very nice guy.

Team RWBY and JNPR were obviously suspicious, and James let them be. Because he knew all too well that, while words were good, he would rather his actions show his good will. Eventually, they had all but repaired their shattered relationship, and had begun to work together once more, however under more open and honest circumstances.

He never saw the spirits again, although he swore he could always see a glimmer in Oscar’s eye whenever he discussed his feelings to him. And it was always said that he not only knew how to keep Non-Descript Winter Holiday alive, if any man could know that, but he also could successfully keep the kindness and warmth it was known for alive through out the years.

  
For the first time in what seemed like forever, James Ironwood felt  _ happy. _

\---

“Gods bless us, everyone!”

“What makes you say that, Penny?”

“I don’t know, Ruby. It just felt right.”

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so a tale comes to a close. I'm actually blown away with the feedback. Every bit makes my work just a little bit brighter. But don't worry, I'm thinking of another, more light-hearted piece for my next work.
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely holiday season. It may be a bit harder to have a family christmas now, but that just means we have to raise our spirits just a little bit more to compensate!
> 
> I also hope you enjoyed my first story on AO3. If you didn't, that's fine.
> 
> Happy Non-Descript Winter Holiday to All, and to All a Good Night!


End file.
